The Dark Rider
by Scuttlest
Summary: The war was nearly over. Only Darkling Woods remained, and all of the horrors would be lurking within. Among those numbers, unknown to any human that still drew breath, was a inhuman champion of abominable strength... FE8.


**Taking a step away from my Shadow Dragon fics for a moment.**

**This idea hit me while playing the FE8 that came with the 3DS Ambassador program. Though it went through a lot of revisions before I as much as typed the first letter.**

**There might be some minor OOCness.**

**Oh, and some mid to end-game spoilers.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Darkling Woods was a cursed place. The very spot where the Demon King of ancient times fell. His blood, putrid and toxic, seeped into the ground, that fact alone made this place unsuitable for human life. The darkness that his blood gave birth to allowed this to be the only sanctuary for the King's own kind: nameless abominations that walked the earth, made of flesh and bone like any other living thing, yet still so horrifically _wrong_.

The only beacon in the appropriately named woods had been an ancient hero who had sought to live in such an evil-infused place. Morva, a Manakete, who single-handedly gave humans the edge they needed to emerge victorious over the Demon King all those years ago. The monsters of Darkling Woods tried to strike at Morva without pause. So long as they were focused on the Manakete, who stood as the last line of defense before the Demon King's dormant, but intact, remains, they rarely ventured from the woods.

His time as such a line of defense was now over.

Riev, known as the Blood Beryl, looked on with satisfaction at Morva's animated corpse. The great dragon's head pulled away and moved in what seemed to be mixed confusion and defiance. After a time, all signs of the futile independence vanished from Morva, and he bowed his now torn and rotting head obediently to a seemingly fragile looking man.

Lyon had once been the prince of Grado, the continent's most militarily powerful nation. Now, only a fragment of Lyon remained. Desperation over his father's health and a desire to help his nation made him all too susceptible to possession by the soul of the ancient evil who had been sealed into Grado's national treasure. His body was now just a vessel for the Demon King of old. A shard of Lyon remained, but only for the amusement of the evil King.

"Riev." The Demon King's unnatural voice came from Lyon's soft lips. He turned to the Blood Beryl. While the Demon King, coated in Lyon's skin, looked like a tame, and even soft, individual, Riev was the opposite. He was old, but the Blood Beryl looked more warped then he did aged. Despite being completely human, he may as well have been one of the abominations who shambled mindlessly in service to the King. "The defenses fall to you. See that none may follow me."

The Beryl chuckled in a unnervingly high pitch. "Yes, please, continue with the rite. I and what you have given me shall suffice in keeping the Temple free of intruders. Not the least of my assets is the Draco Zombie." Riev looked on with admiration at Morva, the one who played an integral role in sealing his master away now obediently did as commanded. "Yes, your army… I'll use the creatures we have unleashed before in proper measure. No one shall approach the Temple."

The Demon King raised Lyon's head so that Riev understood that he was being looked down on. Riev noticed the movement, and felt a prickle of real fear at seemingly having earned his master's ire.

The King turned to the side, his eyes catching sight of abominations of every type. Expendable and meaningless things, and in the face of their enemies, utterly dismissible. "You should know full well that those things are nearly worthless on this day. It is foolish of you to believe that those things would be an acceptable means of defense, even in such quantity. I shall give you something else, to supplement the remains of the Manakete. My champion of old…" He extended Lyon's hand, and a black smoke seemed to spawn from the gloved palm. It wafted away quickly, but Riev suddenly heard a sound. He whirled.

Riev was not a man easily frightened by anything, save his master's wrath. Still he was touched by foreboding as a single black hoof appeared from a shadowed, pitch-black section of the woods. Slowly, Riev calmed as the creature the hoof was attached to became apparent.

"Yes." Riev said, chuckling again, seeing what his master was providing. "Yes, that will be more then enough. Please, allow me to direct this Champion in the defense of the Temple."

* * *

The greater part of the Renais army waited at the edge of Darkling Woods. Prince Ephraim, one of the two commanders and the official tactician of the army, wanted no mistakes on this day. Today would see a battle that would see the conclusion of a war that started without apparent reasons, and was revealed to have been the result of the Demon King's manipulations. The battle today would end the war, for better or for worse.

Ephraim was determined to see that it ended for the better. To that end, he authorized several scouting missions on the edge of Darkling Woods. The abominations that acted as servants of the Demon King had been encountered sparingly before, and Ephraim had learned quite a bit about them. Though, roughly half of his knowledge had actually come from his education in Grado before the war, which was mostly his old friend, Lyon, summarizing books for him. Back then, he simply rolled his eyes during his studies, not believing that such creatures actually existed. Now he struggled to remember the things Lyon had explained as slowly and as articulately as the Grado prince possibly could.

They were not particularly intelligent creatures, the monsters. Most of them simply charging toward their prey in predictable straight lines. They were easily baited, easily trapped. They were resilient, that much was true, blows that would be fatal to humans only inconvenienced them. In Darkling Woods, their numbers were legion, they would likely encounter more monsters over the course of a few minutes then they had across the entire war so far.

He needed intelligence. He had spare time, though not much. He could at least allow some scouts to make some rough estimates about their numbers and where in the forest they collected at. More importantly, they would try to find any weaknesses in the monster's crude formations, anything they could break through easily. The army's supplies were colossal, but they had to be used wisely, otherwise the army might be spent before they found the root of the problem. They really didn't need to fight all of the horde to win today's battle.

Had it been more orthodox, human enemies, Ephraim would have sent the more subtle members of the army, such as Colm and Rennac. Yet the monsters were not human, and gaining intelligence would have to be done differently. The best scouts would be those who weren't necessarily quiet. The creatures _normally_ weren't very attentive to their surroundings when a leader was not present, but they sometimes seemed to pick up on ambient cues that humans did not.

Ephraim could recall one painful incident where Colm had approached in a way that would not have alerted any human, but the Wight he had been sneaking up on was far from impressed. Moulder had to see to Colm once the more mainstream soldiers of the army had reduced the Wight to a darkly colored pile of bones. On other occasions, the monsters seemed to not notice a more lumbering person like Gilliam walking right by them. They didn't notice right up to the point that a lance went straight through their torso.

In the end, Ephraim reasoned that it would be better to send those more capable of putting up a fight if taken by surprise, and escape before things turned against their favor. To that end, Ephraim hand-picked who would go.

* * *

"Aren't you more worried about your brother?" Kyle asked his partner, though a partner that was frequently on his last nerve. "He _is_ being asked to scout on a mission this dangerous…"

Forde at first seemed to ignore the words, but his eyes were entirely on Franz. His younger brother had proven himself to be one of the more idealistic, and perhaps overachieving, soldiers in the army. After a while, he shrugged. "Sure, I'm worried, I won't be there, after all, but prince Ephraim chose him for this. Our prince wouldn't have selected him for this if he thought he wasn't capable." Forde had already thought it over, and decided that a better time to worry was when Franz actually got himself injured, which didn't seem likely.

Despite the fact that the continual stability and way of life of the human race was in the balance, a single fatality in the army still could not be permitted. The way the soldiers formations were developed, they could strike with crippling power and retreat smoothly, but one loss of life could have made the entire army collapse. Ephraim wouldn't have chosen anyone to scout if he thought they might perish.

"Besides…" Forde added somewhat randomly. "He has someone to watch his back."

Kyle watched as Amelia, a former Grado soldier, walked up to Franz. Franz and Amelia had identified each other as rivals, and surprisingly close friends. Amelia put a hand on Franz's shoulder, a wordless sign that she was ready to go. Franz was still fastening some final things to his horse's saddle. It took a moment longer, but he was ready before Amelia's hand fell from his shoulder. The two shared an easy smile with each other as they began their assignment. Someone familiar with the two might have been surprised by the fact that they weren't holding hands.

Forde found himself smirking as the two went off. Somehow, the two would have been together on this assignment even if Ephraim only wanted one of them. Wherever Amelia went, Franz followed like he was attached to some invisible rope. Wherever Franz went, Amelia followed like a puppy.

"She's inexperienced." Kyle said as Amelia walked beside Franz's steed. The young girl was one of the more enthusiastic soldiers in the army, and she certainly had an incredible potential, even Seth and Garcia had taken notice of it. Ross had even wanted to make a rival out of her, but Franz had beaten the son of Garcia to the punch there. Still, despite all that, she was too eager to prove herself for Kyle's tastes. "If she wasn't already Franz's partner, I doubt she would have been selected for this."

Forde shrugged again. "Guess so."

* * *

They weren't supposed to go deep into Darkling Woods. Venturing any further then a mile in would likely be lethally stupid. Franz and Amelia played it safe with a slow approach.

Franz held a finger up to his lip, a warning to Amelia that they shouldn't be risking the sounds that came with speaking right now. Despite the potential dangers of today, Amelia almost found the gesture cute, and mimicked it to show that she understood.

This assignment was nothing particularly new to Franz. Scouting and watching the enemy was something he did often. Everyone in the army, except maybe Dozla and L'Arachel, had grown to understand the value of such things. The army frequently went up against enemy forces that outnumbered them on an almost absurd level. If they didn't know how to take advantage of every asset they had, the army would have lost this war long ago. So while there were obviously people better in the army at it then others, everyone was at least capable of hiding themselves and waiting for an opportune moment.

The two knights saw a few of the monsters. Mostly Baels spinning their webs. They both knew how regular small spiders would encase prey in web for later, and neither of them wanted to know what was inside the giant web prisons on some of the Bael webs. Hopefully, it was just wildlife like deer, and not humans. Elsewhere, some Wights looked around, acting as if they sensed something.

Wights, and their cousins, the Bonewalkers, were more attentive to their surroundings then most of the monsters. Perhaps only the Mogalls, which were best described as flying eyeballs, could pick out the slightest change in ambiance better then the skeletons.

Rather then risk words, and give a sound for the Wights to zero in on, Franz pointed to the distance, a route that would allow them to get around this particular mob. They weren't quite deep enough that they had to turn around. They were also, as of yet, unspotted.

Unbeknownst to them, upon the cliff behind them, the hoof of… _something_, rested on the cool stone, watching the two. The hoof lifted, moving away with what sounded like the clopping sound that a horse made.

As they walked through the woods, they beheld seemingly every brand of creature that they grew up assuming were the stuff of old legends. A hulking Cyclops, one of the least observant monsters, but also one of the most dangerous when enraged, alongside Gargoyles, winged monstrosities who fought with understandable lances. Entombed shambled mindlessly, and they would continue to do so until some sort of leader appeared to direct them.

Tarvos and Maelduin's stamped their hooves in some bestial chant, which could have very well been a dance of joy for what the Renais army's enemies were trying to do on this day. Elsewhere, Gorgon slithered around, protecting their eggs. Some Gwyllgi looked like they were hunting, but their three heads spent more time snapping at each other then focusing on any scents.

Without a leader, the creatures were little more then wild animals infringing on the territory of the others. A Cyclops knocked a Gwyllgi aside to make room for it to sit down. The canine monster retaliated by lunging onto the Cyclops' gut and beginning to tear deep holes with its three sets of jaws. The knights turned away as the Cyclops wrapped a massive hand around the canine's torso. The exchange between the two monsters would inevitably end with one of them killing the other.

They were traveling deeper and deeper. They both had a moment where they reveled in their own daring, and then it occurred to Franz that they were had probably going too deep. He touched Amelia's shoulder to get her attention, then gestured that it was time to turn around. They had seen the monsters of the Woods, had a rough idea of their numbers, though saw no signs of wear they could expect the monsters to collect at. Hopefully one of the other scouts had been able to determine that. Turning around, they began to move tensely back to the army.

Passing by the hordes of monsters, Amelia knew full well that Grado's military never enjoyed numbers like that. They were making good progress on the path back, they were getting close to the rest of the army and…

A hoof fell on a branch, snapping it in two, and the two soldiers beheld something they never expected to see.

The hoof belonged to a strong black horse with a gray mane. It was a large horse, larger then Franz's, but not unnaturally large. The black horse's eyes glowed red, lacking both pupil and iris, they simply had a deep blood red color. it seemed like the sort of thing seen only in nightmares. It was an intimidating looking creature, and Franz's own steed seemed scared of it, backing away without instructions from its rider.

Upon the horse's saddle sat a man who seemed regally dressed. Almost like a Renais noble. The clothes were almost exclusively black, with some token details that looked midnight blue, and with a cape as deep black as the rest of his clothes. The figure dressed too finely to possibly be a native of the Darkling Woods. Then Franz and Amelia noticed something.

This figure, this man, seemed almost entirely human, with one easily noticed difference. Upon his shoulders, easily visible despite the shade from the trees, was the fact that the figure had no head. None whatsoever.

He was a… Headless… Horseman.

The Horseman, both of his hands on the reins of his horse, approached the two, the only sound being the breathing of his black steed.

"W-who are you?" Amelia whispered as quietly as she could, worried about alerting the other monsters. For just a moment, she considered it possible that this being could be talked to, unlike the other residents of the Woods.

The Horseman made a slight motion with his shoulders, the best equivalent he had to a cock of the head. Then he made a noise, a deep laugh, despite the lack of any kind of mouth to laugh with. Several of the monsters nearby started, turning to the direction the noise came from.

Amelia's hands gripped her lance. She wasn't sure what she should do in this situation. They had encountered an enemy, a sort of enemy that no one in the army had any experience with. Looking at how obviously strong the black horse was, she wondered if fleeing was even possible.

The Headless Horseman pulled on the reins of his horse. His steed neighed, raising itself up on its hind-legs and kicking the air with its front as its rider pulled out a sword.

"We're not supposed to engage anything. We run if we're spotted." Franz spoke quietly, he looked at Amelia, then back at the Headless Horseman. "We need to go, now." He reached out a hand, Amelia looked at it and took it without hesitation. Franz hauled the girl onto the saddle and the horse whirled.

Any fool would have heard the stomping of hooves as the Headless Horseman gave chase. Yet the majority of the monsters paid the sound no mind, as if they understood that the Headless Horseman wanted to flay the two children himself.

Even at the full speed of a horse, the rest of the army, and safety, was at least half an hour away. Amelia dared to look behind her, and her eyes widened in fear at the speed of which the Horseman was closing the distance.

While the Headless Horseman gave chase, his laughter continuing to echo. The hooves of its unnaturally powerful horse crushed branches and sticks as its speed increased. It far outstripped the speed Franz's horse could achieve, especially when it was carrying two armored knights. As Franz worked diligently to maneuver around branches, the Horseman simply cut the stretching plant life out of his way. His sword, and his sword arm, even had the strength to chop right through a tree trunk. More then one tree fell behind Franz and Amelia as the Horseman swung his sword in a wild, seemingly arbitrary pattern.

In just a moment, and with seemingly all the effort of a short hop, the Headless Horseman was almost right beside the two knights. He chopped with his sword, but the attack was stopped by Amelia's lance. The blade bit deep into the long handle of the weapon, but the swing was stopped. Franz had made no reaction, he had to put all of his energy in trying to make sure they were headed in the right direction.

The Horseman, undeterred, swung his weapon again, and this time he slashed Amelia's lance nearly in half. His next movement was made before Amelia could recover from the shock of her weapon's destruction. He raked the blade across Amelia's back, slicing through the girl's armor to deliver a wound that was deep enough to cause deep agony, but far from deep enough to be lethal. It was a sadistic blow, clearly meant more to torment then to end the target's life. Had the being possessed a head, he would have likely smiled in an assured victory, then he had to immediately stop before he and his mare slammed into a tree. Franz and Amelia, riding only just by the Horseman, moved past the tree and began to put their hunter behind them.

* * *

Amelia felt herself calm slightly as the Horseman vanished from sight, but she took the sword from Franz's scabbard just in case. The pain from the wound to her back burned, she endured it as best she could. They continued on, making good progress. As Franz focused on making sure they were using a path that wouldn't have them running straight through a pack of monsters, Amelia watched the back for their pursuer.

It felt like every monster in the woods could jump out at them. Amelia watched carefully, and then heard a galloping sound. She tried, desperately, to convince herself that it was just a Maelduin. They were swifter then most monsters, but she and Franz could outpace one of those centaur-like creatures easily enough.

The galloping sounded like it was coming from above. Both Franz and Amelia turned their hands to see the Horseman on a higher plateau. He was on the other side of a literal sea of vines, but that posed no issue to the monster. He directed his steed to jump, and removed the vines with only one swipe of his sword.

It took a moment for the black horse to regain its traction, but it quickly began to move at full speed, closing in on the two scouts with murderous purpose. The Horseman raised his sword, Amelia grabbed Franz's shoulder and pulled him with her as she leaned over. The Headless Horseman's sword swished only through empty air, rather then potentially decapitating both of the knights. They both still felt the cool air generated by the quick movement of the sword missing them by only centimeters.

Amelia reflexively acted to defend Franz and stabbed out with her sword. The blade scrapped against the black horse's neck, but didn't leave the slightest mark. The horse may as well have been made of iron.

The Horseman raised an arm and tried to swing again, the sword Amelia was holding swung into the Horseman's wrist, stopping the attack before it began. Franz and Amelia were able to pull ahead as the Horseman briefly slowed, shaking his sword arm as though he was trying to shake off an itch. His wrist was not slashed, the fabric on top of the wrist wasn't even damaged.

Franz looked ahead, he could see a natural bridge over a stream ahead. If he could cross it… he'd be very close to the rest of the Renais army, the Headless Horseman might stop pursuing them at that point. If he did continue, he'd be destroyed with ease by the Renais army.

The Horseman's laugh was heard again. Almost seeming to know exactly what Franz was thinking and planning, he gave chase again, almost effortlessly overtaking the two before turning and slashing right across Franz's chest. Franz just gasped, trying to fight the pain for just a moment before he fell back onto Amelia.

The Horseman raised his sword in preparation for a powerful downward swing, his next intention was to slay Franz's horse with a powerful slash across the steed's neck. Amelia desperately threw the sword and watched it plunge into the Horseman's chest. The Horseman grunted, aborting his attack as his horse slowed down. Amelia and Franz made it to the bridge. The Headless Horseman halted his chase, letting his prey flee to safety, one hand on the reins of his horse and the other on his sword. He didn't seem to notice the Renais sword sticking into his chest at all.

A high pitched chuckle resonated through the woods. The Headless Horseman turned to Riev.

"They run scared after such a brief exchange. Ah, the power of the King's champion." He smiled approvingly at the Headless Horseman, and the skills he, or perhaps 'it', possessed. The Horseman nonchalantly removed the sword that had been jammed into him. The blade slid out, and there didn't seem to be a visible wound on him at all. Not even a hole in the tunic.

"Even blades of steel are only shrugged off." Riev looked at what his master had allowed him to command, and he only now realized just how weak the hordes he had commanded previously were. "You, yes, the champion of the one true demon, will serve will in the defense of the Temple, and you will serve well."

The Headless Horseman turned to Riev, he thrust his sword out, holding the blade precariously close to the Beryl's neck. Riev seemed momentarily at a loss of what to do. The Horseman, who almost seemed annoyed at this human director, pulled his sword back, then whirled and departed.

* * *

"I think we're… safe." Franz said between heavy breaths. He took a hand off of the reins and placed it over his cut open chest, and groaned. "I wasn't, expecting… that."

Amelia put her arms around him and leaned him back onto her. She was wounded herself, but it was a slap on the wrist compared to what happened to Franz. Franz looked at his friend and slowly spoke. "Are you… okay? How is your wound?"

His first concern at the moment was Amelia, despite how much worse his condition was. The girl nodded immediately, despite her back feeling like it was on fire. The horse moved along with a good pace on what was now a silent trip. Amelia silently prayed that Franz wouldn't lose any more blood, but at the same time she wouldn't risk the discomfort he'd be put through by making the horse move faster. Eventually, the Renais camp came into view.

* * *

Their return was marked by Eirika's shock, followed immediately by the princess seeing to it that Natasha see to the two, first the more grievously wounded Franz, then Amelia. More then a handful of the army were worried about their conditions. Forde had become almost uncharacteristically angry. He couldn't fathom how this could have happened to his younger brother. Only once it was clear that Franz was going to be okay did he somewhat calm down.

The other scouts had also returned, none bore wounds like the two knights did. Yet the information they brought back wasn't particularly useful, either. Only some general statements that only served to tell Ephraim and Eirika that at least every sort of monster they had encountered before would be here. No one seemed to have seen any pattern regarding how the monsters were positioned, nor any way to determine where the monsters collected in great numbers. The simple fact that Franz and Amelia had been wounded so badly seemed far more relevant information then anything the other scouts brought back. Yet the two had not yet been able to explain what wounded them, or how the assailant did it.

The general consensus in the army was that Franz and Amelia had simply been unobservant, and a Mauthe Dog had taken them by surprise. Ephraim had an alternative idea of what happened, though nothing would be confirmed until he spoke with the two. After they had rested for a while, Ephraim and Eirika paid the two knights a visit.

Franz, even after Natasha's healing, had bandages put all over his chest, and was ordered to continue to lie down. Amelia had suffered less, and wasn't truly required to stay in the tent, but she seemed intent on staying near Franz. They both turned as the twin commanders entered.

"Calm down." Ephraim immediately ordered, knowing that Franz would have tried to dutifully rise before he should at the sight of the Renais prince and princess. The siblings took a seat on the opposite side of Franz that Amelia was on. Immediately, it became clear that most of the questions would come from Ephraim.

"What attacked you two?" Ephraim began, not mincing words. "Something we've encountered before?" He had a hunch about what attacked them, but said nothing. He knew that Franz wouldn't have been caught by a monster easily. Only something like a Torvas would have had a chance of catching a Cavalier, but the injuries the two young knights had suffered looked nothing like axe or arrow wounds.

Franz and Amelia shared an uncomfortable look, having some difficulty putting the experience into words. Ephraim crossed his arms, without realizing that the gesture might intimidate the two.

"Is there an easy way to start your story?" Eirika asked, slightly tilting her head, trying to come off as softer then Ephraim. "What did the attacker look like?"

Slowly, Franz took in a breath. "It… looked like a Paladin from some nation's nobility. Except, it didn't have a head. It was able to laugh without a mouth, and I'm pretty sure it could really see me, but… it had no head. Beyond that, it looked pretty human."

Ephraim blinked. A memory resurfaced in his mind at the description, but he said nothing. "Considering what we've seen in this war so far, that's a simple enough story to believe." Ephraim considered the wounds that the two came back with again. They could have been sword wounds, easily. Though whatever made them was able to strike with much more force, and finesse, then a Bonewalker or a Wight could. "Is there anything else about this… headless rider, that stands out?"

"He rode a black horse." Amelia said. "It was larger, and faster, then Franz's horse. I don't think any horse bred for speed would be able to match it."

"I doubt it was a regular horse." Franz added. "I can recall its eyes… glowed red."

Amelia paused, then nodded. That fact had momentarily escaped her. "The rider slashed my lance in half without much effort. I managed to slash his wrist, but it only seemed to annoy him. I… did manage to put a sword into his chest, but I doubt it really hurt him."

Ephraim nodded. He doubted their brief encounter would allow them to have much more useful information. They looked like they were still trying to piece the experience together in their minds. He thought for a moment, then asked a broad question. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

Franz sighed, then tried to think. "After the rider started to chase us, the other monsters had to have heard it. Yet they didn't try to enter the chase. It's like… they respected the fact that the rider had targeted us."

"I see." Ephraim looked at Amelia, but she didn't seem to have anything to add. Patting his hands on his knees, Ephraim stood up. "That will be all. Just continue resting for now. We'll see if either of you will be able to join us in the battle." Ephraim gestured at his sister, Eirika rose and followed him out.

Franz turned his head toward Amelia. The Grado girl met and returned the look.

"Do you think we'll meet that… _thing_, again?" Amelia asked. There was a hint of fear in her voice. After that experience, being scared to see the Horseman again was understandable.

"If we do, we won't be running away from him." Franz said plainly. "That thing was strong, but we were more focused on running then fighting earlier. We'll find a weakness when we fight it."

Amelia looked at Franz's face. His words seemed to allow her to give a confident smile. Her hand went onto his shoulder, she knew that Franz was mentally vowing that the rider would never hurt her again. She made the vow that the rider would be dead long before it had the chance to as much as target Franz again.

* * *

"A… Headless Horseman." Ephraim noted in a private moment with his twin sister. Eirika looked uncomfortable, Ephraim wondered if Eirika had the same realization he had. He continued. "Do you remember a few years back, in Grado, when Lyon explained the conclusion of the war against the Demon King? Wasn't there something about a Headless Horseman near the end of that story?"

Eirika's eyes widened in a sudden epiphany. "Yes, I… wish we could read the actual book now. I wouldn't have thought that something so vague would have meaning at the end of all this."

A moment of undeniable silence crept in. Thinking of the old days with Lyon in Grado hit the twins hard. Yet their minds zeroed in on one particular memory relevant to what they had just heard.

They both reflected back on the story Lyon read. The Headless Horseman, the 'Champion' of the Demon King's army, was said to be the closest thing to a second that the Demon King ever had. The Horseman was, interestingly, absent from all the records that explained what life had been like when the Demon King ruled. Though the stories about the war did clearly state that the Horseman had been present well before Morva led the human race in rebellion.

He was only mentioned in a meaningful context near the conclusion of the war. The Horseman was known to have personally slain at least three people who would have been known as heroes of the war alongside someone like Latona, had they survived. The last mention of the Horseman in the stories was simply that he had been pinned under the corpses of humans he had killed. Eirika imagined that the amount of corpses that were necessary to pin the Horseman down was a truly ghastly number.

"So, he's waiting for us." Ephraim's hand went around his lance. In the eyes of the Renais prince, the Horseman, however strong he might have been, was just another monster. No matter what he was recorded to have done, he'd fall, just as surely as the Entombed and Arch Mogalls would fall.

* * *

A noon sun was shining down. Even on this hot day, the horrors of Darkling Woods prowled around in favor of retreating to cool caves. Outside of the temple, Riev stood, freely ranting about his former life and his thirst for revenge. Morva looked around, his former thoughts gone, his mind totally consumed by obedience to the Demon King. All his mind seemed to fathom at this point was slaying those who opposed his new master. As his head turned, he saw the Headless Horseman, sitting on the saddle of his black horse.

In the ancient war, the Horseman had been one of the few things that had been able to respectably take on Morva single-handedly. The Horseman and Morva turned to each other. Recognition could not twinkle in Morva's eyes, not anymore.

The Headless Horseman just bellowed a deep laugh at this development, then readied his sword.

* * *

**It never occured to me back when I first played SS years back, but I'm actually kinda surprised that the only monster _character_ we really have is the Demon King himself. That's when I decided to do a Headless Horseman story. Of course, there were plenty of other monster concepts that I could have used just fine for this.**

**I'm satisfied with how this fic turned out, but I'll admit that I can't shake the feeling that the reasoning behind the decision to send people like Franz and Amelia was a bit of a sloppy concept.**

**If you look closely, I dropped a smaaaaall intentional reference to Washington Irving's _Legend of Sleepy Hollow_ into this fic. The famous Headless Horseman short story.**

**(And before anyone tries to correct me about the monster descriptions, yes, yes, I know that Baels showed no signs of web-spinning in the actual game.)**

**Please review.**


End file.
